


Rain Drops like Flood Waters

by Mitsuhachi



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blasphemy, Edging, Love (capital L), M/M, Metaphysical masochism, Teasing, Temptation, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuhachi/pseuds/Mitsuhachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're tempting," Aziraphale whispered back, hands hovering near Crowley's hips without touching. "Aren't you supposed to save that for the humans?"</p><p>"You tempt me, angel."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain Drops like Flood Waters

It was rare enough between them, especially as humans counted such things. Decades might pass, at first, then maybe only years as it seemed to do him no real harm. Still. Aziraphale worried so.

But sooner or later, with a hundred little moments like the raindrops leading to a flood, Crowley reached his limit.

***

Aziraphale spilling a few drops of wine on the cuff of Crowley's shirtsleeve. The tiny miracle removing it was barely a sting, hardly worth mentioning, but it made Crowley stutter and lose track of what he'd been saying. Aziraphale leaned close, and Crowley knew he was staring at his lips but he couldn't seem to stop. "What? Oh--oh no, just fine. All gone, see? Now what was that about the lighthouse?"

***

Aziraphale's soft hand on his arm, brilliantly warm even through his heavy winter coat. "Oh, look--there, the silver pocket watch--they never have these!" Aziraphale's eyes bright with excitement, shining up at him with real joy. "Remember when they first started making them? That sweet Heinlin boy was so proud..."

Crowley stuck his hands resolutely in his coat pockets. "Well go get it then," he mumbled and focused intently on the tiny pinprick pain of his fingernails digging into his palms to avoid reaching out.

***

Aziraphael's worried face when Crowley stumbled near the shelves and caught himself on an open bible. "Oh dear--here, let me see," he said, bustling over to cradle Crowley's singed fingers. It wasn't as bad as it might be, but that didn't stop the angel from frowning down at the wounds as though they caused him personal offense. "Here now," he murmured, placing his own hand over the raw marks. There was a faint glow as Crowley fought to bite back a ragged groan and then lost when Aziraphale patted the sensitive, new-healed skin. "There you go, right as rain, dear heart."

Crowley closed his eyes and reminded his heart--dear or not--that it didn't actually need to be racing like that. Maybe it was time for a little distance.

***

Crowley slunk into the bookshop at six pm and turned the sign to "closed" even though the door had actually already been locked. He felt shaky already, jittery with lust, with greed for what only Aziraphale could give him, and he swallowed heavily trying to steady himself.

Aziraphale was sitting behind the counter still, cup of tea gone cold beside him, and looked up with a small soft smile as Crowley stalked towards him. "Welcome back, dear boy, I hadn't thought you'd return to London for a fortnight yet! How was Amer-" Crowley leaned over the counter, bracketing the angel between his forearms.

"I couldn't stay away," Crowley hissed, accusing. "I kept thinking of you, alone in my hotel rooms. Thinking of you here doing good deeds, unopposed. " He took off his sunglasses and looked into Aziraphale's wide startled eyes. "I thought about you quite a lot, angel."

"Oh..." said low and somewhat bewildered as Aziraphale licked suddenly dry lips. "I-I see. Well, I. I rather missed you too, old boy. But surely it hasn't been so long as all that, really?"

Crowley breathed through a surge of frustrated need. "It's been ages," he countered, pushing up and over the desk. "Eons," crowding Aziraphale against the back wall. "You have no idea how long its been, the days stretch out like decades." Leaning close so that the words were a warm damp puff against Aziraphale's lips, "Do I need to go on?"

"You're tempting," Aziraphale whispered back, hands hovering near Crowley's hips without touching. "Aren't you supposed to save that for the humans?"

"You tempt me, angel." He threaded the fingers of one hand roughly through Aziraphale's blond curls and the angel let him. "You think I can't feel it? You think I don't see you there, day after day, simple and shining and mine? Do you think I don't remember, every time?" He pressed the human hardness in his pants against Aziraphale's soft belly and listened for the angel's quiet gasp.

"Really now, dear--"

"You don't have to thwart me. I'm not part of your flock, Shepherd." Crowley insisted, leaning forward to lick the velvety lobe of one pink ear. "There's no saving this damned soul." He grinned against the pulse of human blood in Aziraphale's neck. "You know I'll make it worth the effort."

Aziraphale laughed a breathless little chuckle. "You always do, at that." Crowley peppered his neck with kisses so light as to be almost chaste. "I suppose it couldn't hurt... it's only once in a while after all. It's just so hard on you!" he said, fussing with Crowley's shirt.

Crowley buried a toothy smile against the angel's neck. "Not so hard as I'd like." He flicked the tip of his tongue against the hollow at the base of Aziraphale's throat and then sank his teeth into the pliant flesh above his collar bone, and he couldn't contain the rush of triumph when Aziraphale let his head lean back against the wall, open to him.

"I'm going to fuck you, you know," he bit out, deliberate and a little cruel as he let his hand wander down the collar of the angel's oxford button-up. "I'm going to ride your cock until you're screaming, begging for me to let you come." He tweaked an unseen nipple, raked the curves of Aziraphale's torso with sharp nails to make him gasp. "I'm going to hit my knees right here and pray, got my very own golden calf," unbuckling Aziraphale's belt and nipping at the bared flesh of one hip. "Going to suck you off right here at the desk, let any customers who happen to peer in get a good look at your face as you come down my throat." Aziraphale's face was flushed a brilliant red, like he was pinned halfway between complete horror that anyone could just say such things out loud and helpless arousal that Crowley had said them to him. "You want this," Crowley challenged, tongue poised over the moist tip of Aziraphale's erection. "Admit it."

No power Above or Below could have made Aziraphale look away from Crowley's eyes in that moment. "Please," he whispered.

Crowley grinned and stood up, enjoying the soft frustrated whine from over his head. He trailed fingertips up Aziraphale's side as he went, watching the way they dented his soft human skin, and only then stepped back. He hadn't missed the way Aziraphale swayed very slightly after him as he stepped away to flick the switch for the front lights. Challenging, he held out one hand to the angel. Lit only by the hall lights behind him, Aziraphale's tousled hair glowed at the edges like an obscene halo. "Crowley..." Aziraphale started suddenly and Crowley felt his breath catch in his chest, waiting, wondering if-- but the angel stopped himself and merely took the offered hand in silence.

"Come on," Crowley said, voice unaccountably rough. He led Aziraphale into the little living-space in the back of the shop, to the dusty little bedroom Aziraphale never used, dousing the lights as he went. Aziraphale always seemed to find this easier in the dark, and he didn't object as Crowley wrapped shadows like sin around them both, slowly circling. The single dim bulb overhead flickered as Crowley turned to face him, sliding his fingers up the angel's bare forearms, feeling the hot pulse against his fingertips. He skimmed them up and pushed the unbuttoned shirt down off of tight shoulders, watching the way the teasing touches made Aziraphale shiver. Crowley pushed closer, hands drifting down to squeeze Aziraphale's ample bottom before they slipped inside the waistband.

"G-get on with it, wont you?" Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley couldn't help a dark chuckle.

"Anxious?" He slipped the trousers down Aziraphale's legs, drew his nails excruciatingly gently down Aziraphale's thighs.

"You do--ah!--rather tend to make a fellow wait," Aziraphale panted as Crowley nuzzled the straining front of his briefs. _Pride_ he wrote with his tongue on the inside of Aziraphale's thigh.

"Impatient," Crowley chided. _Gluttony_ low across Aziraphale's soft belly. He fingered _Sloth_ along the smooth expanse of his back, and _Envy_ into his chest as Crowley reached up to steal a wet kiss from Aziraphale's lips. _Wrath_ was a series of just-shy of too sharp bites down Aziraphale's side as he sank back to his knees. He waited just a moment, letting Aziraphale wonder whether he was going to pull back again this time, draw it out longer.

"Crowley," Aziraphale begged and he took the briefs at last, letting Aziraphale's cock bob free. The air in the room was heavy and thick; what little light the lamp provided dimmer and dimmer. _Greed_ he wrote along one side of Aziraphale's cock with delicate flickers of his tongue, and _Lust_ along the other before Aziraphale's fingers finally clenched in his hair and pulled. Only then did he let his mouth fall open, let the angel push between his lips and down into his throat.

"Crowley!" and this time his name was a demand. Crowley felt like he was falling, drowning. This body didn't need to breathe but he let himself feel the lack of air anyway as Aziraphale pushed deep and blocked his airway. Aziraphale's hands were restless, stroking down the back of his head and along his crisp shirt collar as Crowley swallowed quick around him. And then again, like the filthiest prayer,"Crowley!" and he could feel the light building in Aziraphale. _Do it,_ he thought, desperate as any junkie. _Do it._

"I love you," the angel gasped, breathless and curled over Crowley's bent form, and the words seared him like branding irons. "I love you," and Crowley writhed in place, unwilling to pull away and unable to stand still as they went through his body like he was being electrocuted. Aziraphale was still wreathed in desire, but the Light he was emitting blew the sin away like fog before the morning sun. "I love you," desperate and reaching, clawing at Crowley's back but the sting was nothing compared to the Truth Crowley could barely endure hearing and the light in the room built and built. "Oh God, God, Crowley, I--"

When Aziraphale came it was like a star kindled inside Crowley's rib cage. The room was flooded with brilliant white light, blinding even through the dubious protection of Crowley's clenched eyelids. It shook him apart, every cell of this human body humming and burning in the power of Aziraphale's love proclaimed fearlessly before the LORD; a fierce wind and the howling nothing inside of him that longs for the Divine Presence and isn't built anymore to endure it screams and screams.

When it was over, Crowley felt very small. The room was neither dark nor bright around them but merely dim, lit by one small reading light and the lights of the city outside the window. Above him Aziraphale was panting gently and cradling him close, fingers playing absently with the short cropped hairs at the nape of his neck. Crowley let his softening cock slip from between his lips, licking the last few pearly drops clean from the tip, and together they fell down onto to the rumpled little bed. After some time had passed, Aziraphale manifested a glass of water and encouraged him to drink, but neither of them wanted to get up.

 _Are you quite all right?_ Aziraphale's eyes asked, though he knew speaking the question aloud would be too much right now. The angel couldn't help but worry. Crowley reached up and clasped Aziraphale's hand, gently, too wrung out to press hard. Tomorrow, he'd take Aziraphale out somewhere--lunch, no way were either of them getting up early enough for breakfast--and he'd make sure to wear his cockiest grin. He'd sink some ducks, just for the pleasure of letting Aziraphale grump at him and lift them back up. Tomorrow, he'd be fine. For now, he curled closer into the angel's arms and slept.


End file.
